Atticus’s eyelids twitched so violently that Daphne wouldn’t even be surprised if he combusted due to anger right then and there. He stared at Cordelia with all the hatred in the world, and no magic was needed for Daphne to guess what he might be thinking of. At this point, perhaps he had already co up with a hundred and one ways to kill Cordelia off without anyone finding out.
"His talents are indeed wasted as a re guard, even as the captain of the royal cavalry," Cordelia said thoughtfully, tapping her finger to her chin as though she was deep in thought. Her long, manicured nails caught the sunlight, one of the pearls stuck onto her fingernails glinting in the light.
"Perhaps we should move on to the next event?" Daphne interrupted, standing in the middle to cut them off. She was worried about what Atticus might do― and more importantly, what Cordelia might do. She might not have magic any longer but she was no damsel in distress.
And if it ca down to it, she could not in good conscience let Atticus harm Cordelia with his magic.
"The schedule for today has already ended," Cordelia said, huffing as she sighed in disappointnt. "We are free to do whatever we wish for the rest of the afternoon. There’s a banquet in the evening to celebrate― the family mbers of the remaining contestants have been invited to attend."
"What do you have planned?" Daphne asked, turning to Cordelia. "Perhaps we can have a look around town?"
Atticus’s heart dropped. He had been ecstatic to hear about the free ti. It would be the perfect opportunity to spend so one-on-one quality ti with his wife, sothing he was severely deprived of. He began to pray that Cordelia would be otherwise occupied.
"Oh," Cordelia said. "I’m sorry, Daphne, but there is soplace I have to be this afternoon."
"Oh," Daphne said, her face dropping as excitent left her eyes. She shook her head and smiled. "That’s fine. We have plenty of other spare days."
Cordelia nodded. Silently, she observed the way Atticus visibly rejoiced when she announced her afternoon was other preoccupied, and a wicked thought slithered into her mind.
"I am planning to further my investigations of the murder," Cordelia said, watching Atticus as he nodded, his eyes closed and relaxed, completely unaware that his little actions were all noted down by a watchful eye.
"Have you gotten a lead?" Daphne asked, her eyebrows rising.
She then caught Cordelia’s amusent and instantly, she knew what her best friend was thinking of. Daphne turned to look at her husband as well. The poor bloke completely had no idea that his small victory was about to be utterly and completely ruined, and Daphne even felt sorry for him.
"As a matter of fact, I have," Cordelia said, grinning. "I will be bringing Jonah with on my investigations. He is the one in charge of this case, after all, and I will need his expertise."
Atticus stilled, and the two won watched as blood visibly drained from his face. He opened his eyes in horror, only to realize that Cordelia was smiling smugly at him, her arms crossed over her chest, while Daphne’s face only reflected pity.
Point, Cordelia.
But he couldn’t have the cake and eat it too. If he was planning to have Daphne for the afternoon, Cordelia had every right to swoop in and snatch Jonah from under Atticus’s nose. Not to ntion, Jonah was the one who even suggested Cordelia follow him on this lead.
Cordelia thought that if Atticus found out about it, it might just break his dramatic little heart.
"Well, duty calls!" Cordelia said, not at all able to suppress the growing smirk on her face as she wiggled her fingers goodbye. "I have a date to attend. Best not be late!"
"A date―?!" But before Atticus could finish spewing all the profanities he knew of, Cordelia had already disappeared in a whirl of silks, vanished from view.
***
Cordelia found her best dress that was still suitable for casual wear. Though to be fair, most of Nedour’s dresses could be used during the day and during formal events. They were equally as revealing, and just as extravagant, especially for a princess’s wardrobe.
Her family had never been stingy when it ca to preparing her clothes that would make her the light of the ball. After all, princesses were often like goods on a rack ready to be sold. She needed to look her best at all tis, and this was sothing that Cordelia didn’t particularly disagree with.
Now that she had absolute control over her family’s expenses, she made sure to procure herself the finest gowns and jewels as well― within budget, of course.
"There you are, Your Highness. I thought we could first―" Jonah stopped himself short mid-sentence when he caught sight of Cordelia, and the latter didn’t miss the way his cheeks quickly turned redder than sunburnt skin.
Cordelia smiled.
"Thank you for waiting," Cordelia said, running a hand through her long blue hair. The wavy strands resembled the afternoon sumr sky and paired with her ocean eyes and off-white gown against her tan skin, she was a vision to behold.
Jonah’s heart thundered through his chest, threatening to burst forth from his ribcage. There had been more instances than just one where he felt like this. Of course, it was an undeniable fact that the princess of Nedour was as beautiful as a goddess, but he couldn’t feel this way. Not when she was a princess and right now, he was a servant in service to her.
"I... I― Um..." Jonah stuttered, at a loss of words. That only caused Cordelia’s grin to widen.
She slowly walked over, every step slow, sensual, and purposeful, the sway to her hips not overly exaggerated but enough to instantly attract any man to turn their gaze over― especially when there were two cut-outs in her dress right at her hips that revealed her caral-colored skin.
Jonah gulped.
"Right," he choked out, his throat impossibly dry. Coughing a few tis, he stood a little straighter and gestured to the open carriage. "Our first stop will be Moonlit Cove," he said. "Reports have ntioned that certain wares have washed up on shore, most of which do not belong to Nedour nor were they manufactured here. Of which includes weapons. Intel states that the blades found might be similar to the murder weapon."
"Oh?" Cordelia asked. She boarded the carriage with Jonah’s help, making sure her fingers lingered in his hand for a second longer than they needed to. "Any news on where these crates are from?"
Jonah pursed his lips.
"Yes," he said. "Santok."
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